This Tune

this is how it starts(break into component parts)these lines, these angles our/are story arcs(they intersect in city parks)and all along the walks of lifewhen it's your friend who holds the knifeand bares his teeth so gentle whiteand tears into your heart (goodnight)

but on and on this story goesa course it follows no-one knowssilent, creeping, only growsthrough all the highs and lowsuntil when we begin to seehow blind we are, how can it beto take a leap and start alarmsto leave our jobs and take up arms

----CHORUSour cities are destructingas the creature is constructingthis distance spreads between usand the lines begin to blurour violence is eruptingbut sometimes things corruptingstrangely are instructingand can only be the cure----

so i stop to look around(though battered, hungry, beaten down)i gaze across this milling crowd(i see these faces, staring proud)grasping for that common threadthat binds this life, and to the deadan ember burning, still aglowit is a light that we all know

the furnace of the thoughts of men(with these words we're whole again)a new beginning there is no end(grab these shards and start to mend)so comes the dawn, our cities burnedand we accept what we have learnedwe all conform, all toe the lineand will until the end of time